


Astropharmacology

by SadakoTetsuwan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alien Biology, Aliens, M/M, Zine, Zine: Strange Oddities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 10:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadakoTetsuwan/pseuds/SadakoTetsuwan
Summary: The doctor—bless that woman—hadn’t seemed fazed at all when he’d revealed his extraterrestrial origins. He supposed there was a wide enough array of lifeforms on Earth that a doctor must be used to handling quite a lot of variety in their work. Either way, sweet lady…if a little tired-looking. McCree supposed he’d be tired, too, if he’d just found out that his patient was not only an alien, but had toxic blood that would kill any human it touched.





	Astropharmacology

It was such a cruel trick of the Overseers, to ensure that the only broadcasts that he’d been able to receive from planet OCA-GB-L-Sol-3 were old radio signals. If they’d been merciful to him just this once, just _one moonblown time_ , and let his subspace signal receivers work properly, then maybe he would have landed and been prepared for the world that he had found, rather than the world as it was 200 years before his landing.

He had felt like a fool walking around in cowboy regalia for the first few months, trying to convince everyone he was something called a ‘method actor,’ but at this point, all of the humans around him had just accepted that he was going to wear a serape and spurs, and that was that. As long as no one came in contact with his blood, everyone would be fine. The doctor had reassured him of that.

The doctor—bless that woman—hadn’t seemed fazed at all when he’d revealed his extraterrestrial origins. He supposed there was a wide enough array of lifeforms on Earth that a doctor must be used to handling quite a lot of variety in their work. Either way, sweet lady…if a little tired-looking. McCree supposed he’d be tired, too, if he’d just found out that his patient was not only an alien, but had toxic blood that would kill any human it touched.  
  


“God _damnit_!” McCree spat, spying the bright blue blood on his fingertips before quickly plunging his hand beneath his serape again. “Angela, I’m gonna need medevac; what’s your ETA?”

“We’re coming as quickly as we can!” Angela replied, her tone as level as she could keep it. “Stay where you are; we’re coming for you. Orca out.”

She flipped through medical charts and notes with her brow furrowed. A shoulder wound, while problematic for most people, was typically not life-threatening; however, things got significantly more complicated when alien anatomy began to figure into the picture. Wherever in the galaxy Jesse had come from, he was blessed with two livers, but with the amount of drinking he had done since coming to Earth, Angela wouldn’t have been surprised to find that _neither_ were in particularly good shape anymore…

“Angela?” McCree’s voice came over the comm again.

“I _said_ Orca out, Jesse,” Angela said, her tone growing a little testier.

“I-I’m losin’ a lotta blood here,” he continued, a little tremor in his voice. “I think somethin’ got nicked—”

“I’m moving to a secure channel,” Angela interrupted, her gaze flicking up to the cockpit as she adjusted her channel tuner. “Now I want you to listen very carefully,” Angela instructed, lowering her voice. “Your wound is registering near your secondary liver—it’s critical that you stay calm and do not move.”

“Roger that,” McCree muttered. “What do I do in the meantime?”

“Hang in there, Jesse,” she said. “I will think of something…”

“Jesse?”

McCree jumped slightly as his name was called, twisting from his spot on the ground to look up at the rooftop. A broad-shouldered figure, a gold scarf—

“Hanzo?” he replied, squinting his eyes. “What’re you doin’?”

“I heard you call for a medevac,” Hanzo said, dropping from the roof and landing silently. “I have supplies,” he added, setting a small medkit down next to him.

“I don’t think a bandaid’s gonna fix this,” McCree said, carefully shifting his serape with his free hand to disguise his wound. He couldn’t let anyone see—let alone Hanzo. God, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he poisoned Hanzo, of all people…

“Let me see if I can help,” Hanzo insisted, reaching for Jesse’s serape.

“Ah, no thanks, darlin’,” he said, shuffling back and hitting the wall behind him, hissing softly at the jostle to his shoulder.

“‘Darling?’” Hanzo repeated, raising a brow and smirking in spite of the beats his hearts skipped at the pet name murmured in that honey-sweet voice.

“Hey now, it’s just a figure of speech,” McCree hurriedly replied, raising his hand and laughing softly. Hanzo’s eyes widened, and McCree’s laughter stopped.

His glove was covered in bright blue blood.

“D-don’t worry ‘bout that,” he said, pulling his hand back under his serape. “Just…fluids from my armor and such.”

Hanzo opened the small kit without delay, his expression grim. If Jesse’s armor was damaged that badly, he would need to get bandages on him, and quickly. He couldn’t bear to think of Jesse getting hurt even worse… “Here,” he said, holding out a biotic pen. “Inject yourself near the site.”

“I know, I know,” Jesse complained under his breath, trying to maneuver the pen under his serape. Damn, taking care of wounds was so much harder with an audience…

“Hanzo? Hanzo, this is Mercy, do you read me?”

“Affirmative,” Hanzo stated, pulling out a bandage and spitting on it as surreptitiously as possible. “What is it, Doctor?”

“McCree is injured.”

“I know—I am with him now.”

“You—what?”

“When I heard his distress call, I came to aid him,” Hanzo explained calmly. “That is what you were going to ask me to do, correct?” he added in a whisper.

“Yes, it will be a few minutes until we arrive, and Lena says we will be coming in hot. I need you to stabilize McCree for immediate transport.”

“Understood. He said his armor was damaged; there may be fragments in his flesh.”

“ _Verdammt_ ,” Mercy whispered. “Be very careful with his wound. And Hanzo? Remember what I said about our doctor-patient confidentiality?” she asked, hedging her words.

“Yes?”

“I told him the same thing,” she said, the wink almost audible. “Try to keep him calm. We are on our way.”

“Understood. Hanzo out,” he said, taking a breath and turning to Jesse. “Mercy has instructed me to stabilize you for transport. I will need your cooperation.”

“I-I’m stable,” Jesse said, grimacing, “just...if you’ve got another one of them biotic pens, I could really use it…”

“I do not,” Hanzo said, frowning. He knew what the doctor expected him to do, but he’d never had to help one of her patients directly. He looked at the meager supplies in the medkit, but there wasn’t much else to work with—the aforementioned bandaid, an empty bottle of painkillers, a few rolls of gauze.

Hanzo drew a breath and looked up at Jesse, who looked rather ashen. “Please remove your serape,” he said in as even and pleasant a tone as he could muster.

Jesse opened his mouth to protest, but a voice crackled in his ear.

“Jesse?”

“I’m here, Doc,” he replied, trying to keep his voice even.

“You have to let Hanzo help you. Trust me, he knows what to do, and he has already helped you more times than you know,” Mercy insisted.

“…Alright, Doc,” McCree sighed. “I trust you.”

“Your serape, please,” Hanzo said, hiding the now-damp, green surface of the bandage from view. McCree hesitated before beginning to loosen his serape with one hand.

“Hanzo, look, before I take this off, there’s...there’s somethin’ I’ve gotta tell you,” McCree said, the words starting to catch in his throat. There were a lot of somethings to tell Hanzo—‘I want to buy you a beer,’ ‘I’ve always kind of wanted to take my clothes off in front of you,’ ‘I’m an alien,’ ‘I think you’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever laid eyes on’—

“My blood’s dangerous and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Hanzo’s gaze flicked up to Jesse’s eyes for a moment, and he nodded.

“Understood. I will be cautious.”

As the serape finally fell away, Hanzo felt his stomach sink into his belly. McCree’s wound was angry indigo, and the blood oozing out was vivid ultramarine—much darker than the coolant in his armor—and smelled more of almonds than the coppery scent of human blood. Hanzo quickly pressed the damp gauze against McCree’s wound.

“Damn, that shit stings…!” he hissed, squirming as the healing agent Hanzo had spat onto the bandage bubbled and fizzed against McCree’s open wound. He let out another pained sound and squirmed, gritting his teeth. Hanzo looked back at the empty bottle of pain meds and bit his cheek. His hearts skipped a few more respective beats at the prospect of what he had to do.

“Forgive me, but I have no other painkillers,” Hanzo said in a rush, pressing his moist lips to McCree’s. The cowboy’s squirming ceased at the first moment of contact. As the kiss continued, McCree found himself relaxing, his lips parting, a soothing tingle washing over him—he didn’t know if human kisses were usually this _wet_ , but it was certainly having an effect on him either way.

All too soon, he felt Hanzo’s lips draw away from his, the air tingling against his slightly numb lips.

“My species’ saliva has analgesic properties, separate from the healing factor,” Hanzo murmured, looking rather concerned for a man who just shared a kiss like that.

“Wait—your species?” McCree asked, his brows rising.

“Please,” Hanzo begged, “Do not tell anyone that I am not from this planet…”

McCree offered a lazy smile, the pain in his shoulder quickly fading as the sound of the Orca’s engines reached his ears.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, your secret’s safe with me.” McCree winked.


End file.
